


Dark Eve

by Spayne



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:15:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26281012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spayne/pseuds/Spayne
Summary: Where Eve gets a cool nickname and Villanelle does not. It is unacceptable.Killing Eve week day 5 - jealousy
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Comments: 65
Kudos: 198
Collections: Killing Eve Week 2020





	Dark Eve

**Author's Note:**

> Probably my last outing for KE week so enjoy...or tolerate....however the mood strikes you.

Something had been annoying you. That wasn’t a huge shock. Things often annoy you. But this particular annoyance stood out because generally things are going pretty well. For once.

As it’s turns out grand gestures of selfless love do win the girl. So that’s been excellent and you didn’t think it would necessarily go that way, but who doesn’t like surprises?

On the less good side Eve talked Carolyn into continuing to pursue The Twelve again. That has been boring and pointless, but it seems to make her happy and you want to be supportive. 

So with things generally going so well, this unnamed background annoyance is....annoying.

It started when you were invited out for drinks by a group of people working in the office. One of them has terrible glasses...possibly they are called .....Joe? Whatever. It doesn’t matter. 

Your first thought was that it was weird that they invited you. Actually that’s not fair. You are funny and clever and beautiful so naturally people should want to spend time with you. It’s just that sometimes people don’t always appreciate all the excellent things you bring to the table. It’s not like you care particularly. Eve sees all the things. Or most of them anyway and that’s what you really care about. 

Both Carolyn and Eve suggested that your previous….career….should be kept quiet. Something to do with team morale. Stupid really, who wouldn’t want a highly trained and experienced assassin on their team? Ok. A retired highly trained and experienced assassin. You might not want to kill anymore but you’ve still got a lot of good ideas of how one might do it if they so chose. They disagreed with your reasoning and references to Villanelle were scrubbed from the files. 

It was a weird thing to watch yourself being erased. You once thought that being freed of all the baggage, all those bodies was what you wanted. When it came down to it being set free felt remarkably like being cut adrift.

Whatever. It doesn’t matter.

You agreed to be nothing more than a normal boring person in the office if she insisted. But even though you’ve been playing the role of Office Attire Villanelle for sometime now it still felt a little strange to get the invite.

Eve was head down at her desk, completely absorbed in what was sure to be boring, so you accepted their invite. You didn’t see any harm in it, assuming it would kill few hours before she got home if nothing else.

They went ahead whilst you told Eve what you were doing. She said she’d see you at home, and you had to remind yourself not to press a kiss to her mouth. That might undermine the whole keeping things professional at work thing that she seemed so keen on. Then you left for the bar to catch up with all your new work friends. 

Turning your back on a life of pain, death and murder is turning out pretty well in the main. You have a job, a girlfriend and work friends. You are so well adjusted.

But that was it. That was when the annoyance began. 

You arrived at the table to hear them talking in hushed tones about someone. Someone scary apparently. Pfft. Children. 

One of them saw you and cleared their throat to try cut the conversation abruptly. That made sense, you thought. They were talking about you, obviously. They must have found out who you really are somehow. The Demon With No Face or whatever it is, blah blah blah. How exhausting. How predictable.

“Don’t worry guys, I am reformed. I haven’t killed anyone in at least six months.” It was a joke to warm the crowd. Good one, you thought.

There were some confused faces. 

“I promise”, you said with a smile and a charming little shrug.

Someone laughed. Not in the way you meant them to.

That was rude.

“No, be serious Vil, we’re talking about...you know....Dark Eve.” One of the generic office people with boring earrings said.

What? 

The rest of the evening went by in a bit of a blur.

Dark Eve.

That’s what they call her.

You get it, sort of. Nicknames for bosses is a fun thing to do. But this one was annoying. You just couldn’t place exactly why.

Then you started to think about other things. There is a reluctance to do field work with her. You never cared before because it just meant that you could be with her instead.

But in the light of the new annoyance you did notice.

Once the boring earrings person asked to partner with you for an operation. The answer was no. Obviously.

You went for drinks a few other times to get to the bottom of it.

“You remember Hugo? Someone told me she left him to die in a corridor so she could continue with whatever operation she was running.”

“I heard she let someone tail a serial killer alone without backup and he was stabbed in the throat eight times. He left behind a wife and baby too. Brutal.”

“Well someone told me that she killed Carolyn’s son but they could never prove it.”

“Fuck.”

“Dark Eve” They all said it together. 

Reverently.

Then they clinked drinks.

What?

It was unbearable. 

She left that idiot boy to come and watch you kill the focus of that operation. You were undercover and you killed him anyway after being told not to! In front of a mirror!! 

It was you who stabbed her friend eight times! Although that’s probably not one to band about flippantly. That whole thing was an oversight given the current situation.

Also. You are not a serial killer. How insulting. You are, were, an international assassin. There is a big difference. 

Why is she ‘Dark Eve’ and you are ‘Vil, fancy sharing some cheesey chips with the next round?’.

You think about this a lot. A disportionate amount of time. 

But it was after drinks last night when things became particularly annoying. 

At the bar someone told you that they heard that she once crushed a woman under her boot. Then Boring Earings asked if you wanted to visit her island on Animal Crossing. You didn’t know what that meant, only that it isn’t something that they would ask Dark Eve to do.

When you got home you sat on the end of the bed and thought about it some more.

Dark Eve. Whatever.

She came out of the bathroom wearing an old t shirt and shorts with her toothbrush hanging from her mouth. 

She spoke around it, “Shall we go to Kew Gardens at the weekend? They’ve got that light thing on in the evening. That could be fun.” Then she padded back to the sink. She was wearing mismatched green and pink socks.

This. This is Dark Eve.

You once skinned someone alive, but yeah, sure, this is Dark Eve.

How annoying. 

“I killed someone at Kew Gardens once.”

You didn’t.

“Oh?” She glanced up from the bathroom mirror, tooth brush still in her mouth. She spat into the sink and came out to sit on the bed next to you.

She tucked some hair behind your ear. “Shall we skip it then? I don’t want to bring up any bad memories.”

You shrank away from her hands. Irritating where you would normally find it nice.

“What’s up with you? You’ve been in a weird mood?”

“Nothing.” You hated how sulky it sounded. This was a legitimate annoyance not a sulk.

“Come on. Tell me, it might help.”

You decided to tell her. It was a mistake. You see that now.

“They call you Dark Eve.”

She looked confused. Then her lips quirked. If it wasn’t so annoying it would have been cute.

“Who?”

“The people.” You gestured vaguely. “At the office.”

She grinned then laughed. As if this could get more annoying.

“Cool.”

“No it’s not cool. It’s annoying.”

She looked at you then, it was the irritating I’m looking into your soul to find all the answers look.

She laughed again and put a hand over her mouth to hide the smile.

“You’re jealous.”

What? No.

No you are not jealous. 

You don’t get jealous.

You see something you want and you take it.

There is no room for jealousy in that.

“No. No I’m not. Don’t be a dick.”

She laughed again.

“You are!”

“No.”

She laid back on the bed and fiddled with the tip of one of her fingers.

“Dark Eve.” She said it to herself.

“They don’t say it all the time. It’s not really even a thing. It happened once.”

She laughed again. The glee in it was the worst. You turned away, the satisfaction in her face unbearable.

Jealous? Please. 

It’s not jealousy. It’s just annoying. 

Sure, you’ve put killing and murder and stuff behind you but it’s still a part of who you are. 

If she is Dark Eve, who are you?

The people at the office seem to know. They think you are one of them. God. What a depressing thought. 

That was the problem though. Its not that she is Dark Eve, because it’s kind of hot, but its that she is ….something….  something clear and tangible. She hunts The Twelve, she leads the operations, she is respected and feared a little, which is also cool. But for you... all the ways that you used to define yourself are gone. With your history erased, and no new death in your future, what else is there?

So if you are jealous, and that is no admission that you are, it’s because she is something and you are not.

You stewed on it all night, which is why this morning you are sitting in the office kitchen with a mug of the shitty sludge that passes for coffee.

It’s happening around you again. Boring earrings and crap glasses are gossiping behind you.

“Did you see what Greg said in the group chat yesterday?”

You are in the group chat. It is muted.

“No, I had that aromatherapy class last night.”

Is this what a migraine feels like?

“He was doing some digging in archives and there were some references in a file to her ex husband.”

“I didn’t know she was married?”

“Yeah well, not any more. ‘Someone’-“

You watch the reflection in the door of the microwave as Crap glasses gesticulates inverted commas around the word. 

Carolyn would probably frown on the amputation of a colleagues fingers? Right?

“-locked him and his mistress in a storage unit. Suffocated her with a bag and left him in there with the body for days”

Ha. Yes. That was a good one.

Boring earrings draws in a cartoonish intake of breath.

“You don’t think...”

A pause. What degree burn would your coffee cause at this temperature?

“You don’t think.....Dark Eve...?”

“It sounds like something she would do.”

Eve told you she once broke Gemma’s music box in a fit of pique. You are the one who suffocated her...with a bag and duct tape! Duct tape!

It a strange feeling when something snaps. You’ve not felt it often. You’ve not killed from anger many times in your life. Plenty of other reasons sure but rarely anger. So the snapping isn’t a very familiar feeling even if you can recognise it.

They are walking back into the office. You are up before you can stop yourself. The words are coming and they fill the space of the open plan office 

“I killed Gemma! She was awake when I taped a bag Around her head and left her to suffocate! That was me! I did it!”

It comes out shrill. You were going for intimidating. Very disappointing.

They turn round to look at you. Crap Glasses, Boring Earrings and a few others. Silence is a weird thing. Full but empty. 

Crap glasses is looking at you with an expression of confusion and mild distaste. Boring earrings reaches out a hand,

“Are you ok Vil?”

You slap her hand away and stomp back to your desk. You catch Eve’s eye as you pass. She looks deeply amused. Maybe you ought to have killed her at the very beginning. It would have saved a lot of trouble.

The morning passes slowly. No one speaks to you. So there is something good to come from this. The group chat has gone silent.

At lunch time you look up from your magazine to see that all your work friends have gone. Presumably out for a drink. Good. You hate drinks.

Eve comes to sit next to you. You ignore her.

She’s biting her lip. 

“You ok?”

“Yes. Obviously.”

She nods. “Ok then.”

But she doesn’t leave. It’s a new trick of hers. Patience. That’s what people would call it. It’s annoying.

It works.

“I’m not jealous.”

She nods but sits quietly.

“I’ve killed way more people than you.”

Another nod.

“People should appreciate how good I am at it.”

Another murmured acknowledgement.

“I’m the one with darkness.”

She moves then and puts a hand on your leg. 

“Thats part of you, sure. What’s upset you about this? You can’t seriously expect me to believe you care what Joe and Mel think about you.”

You huff out a breath. You don’t care, not really. But you also don’t like the idea that without all the death and blood and violence you are now just.....ordinary.

How are you meant to tell her that without sounding whiny and desperate, without being boring?

You huff out a breath and try to put it into words.

“You’re Dark Eve. You’re ruthless and you overlook people to do whatever it is you have decided to do. I like all that about you. Obviously. I like that other people see that in you too. But murder and killing were my things for a long time and without them….” You trail off before starting again. “I’m not proud or ashamed of what I’ve done.They are just things that happened.Except maybe a few of the cool details, like the purfume-“

“-and the hairpin.” She interrupts.

You nod. “They were cool weren’t they?”

She sort of smiles and nods.

“I don’t think about it much. Not really. But all that was me for a really long time, and without it....” you pause unsure how to proceed.

She moves the hand on your leg and uses it to capture yours.

“I know you don’t like working here.-“

You start to interrupt but she makes a gentle stopping motion with her free hand and you fall silent.

“You don’t like working here. You have more options than this. Everything you’ve helped us with has been great but there’s more to you than just what you know about The Twelve. I always knew that. I like your darkness, and whether Mel and Joe know it’s there or not doesn’t matter, but I also like the rest of it. I like the rest of you.”

You don’t look at her as she says this. It’s too much for 1.36pm on a Wednesday. 

“You want to be an interior designer? Fine, go and do that. You want to open a boutique and dress wealthy socialites? Great, come home and tell me all about how ridiculous they are. I mean, Christ, if you want to work at the deli in Waitrose I’ll enjoy the cute little hat . It doesn’t matter to me.”

You don’t cry in the office. That’s a hard no. So you settle for keeping your eyes focused in the other direction. 

“I don’t want to be ordinary.”

She barks out a surprised laugh and you turn back to her.

“You couldn’t be ordinary if you tried. It wasn’t the killing that makes you special.”

You refer back to your earlier rule on office tears and settle on squeezing her hand instead.

“Maybe Dark Eve likes the thought of a discount at Waitrose.”

You laugh, grateful that she’s lightened the tone.

“The discount works at John Lewis too.” You remind her.

She leans forward and presses a kiss to your cheek. It’s the first time that’s she’s acknowledged you like that in the office and it makes your chest ache.

You sigh. “Its a cool nickname.”

She grins. “It is though, isn’t it.”

You murmur an acknowledgement. She looks pleased with herself, it’s lovely. After so long shrinking herself down to fit inside other people’s expectations its been beautiful to watch her be herself, and unashamedly so, in front of other people.

You stand abruptly and pull on her hand. “Let’s go home. You can spend the tube ride telling me about how sexy I’ll look in a Waitrose uniform and then I’ll let Dark Eve fuck me against the wall in the hallway.”

Another grin. Something stutters in your chest.

Her smile turns softer, she’s still holding your hand.

“Sounds perfect.”

**Author's Note:**

> It is a secret dream of mine to quit my job and work in John Lewis.
> 
> Spending all day amongst nice shiny things, helping people buy the nice things, then a discount to assist with my own purchase of nice things? I genuinely don’t know if there could be anything better.
> 
> Except being able to continue to pay the mortgage. Being made homeless by the bank would suck. But that is literally the only thing holding me back.
> 
> Also, for those not well versed in the Waitrose Deli outfits I have included a photo here - @spayne_fic ....enjoy.


End file.
